An Empty Promise
by myrtlenator
Summary: A oneshot of the conversation between Fred and George after George loses his ear. Fred is uncharacteristically worried, as he's just finally been hit with a possibility he's never dared to acknowledge: what if they hadn't been so lucky?


AN: So, shockingly enough, I actually decided to write something again. I've been wanting to write this scene for ages, but up until now I've been too busy or lazy to actually do it. But today I reached new levels of boredom, so...here it is. This is based on the fact that I felt that after George lost his ear, there really needed to be some closure between the twins. The bit in the book where it mentions that the two of them had been laughing together in the living room while the others were outside made me wonder how their conversation had gone. The lines in italics are bits I copied directly from the book to sort of "frame" the scene. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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"_You see...I'm holy. _Holey_, Fred, geddit?"_

Fred managed to keep a light smile on his face until everyone else had gone back outside to wait for those who hadn't yet safely returned. As soon as the room was vacated, the smile was replaced with an uncharacteristically serious expression, one that anyone except George might have been frightened to see, because it was extremely rare for anyone but George to ever see it. Fred grabbed a chair so he could sit next to George.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine," George replied.

"You sure?" Fred persisted.

"Yes. I'm totally fine," George repeated, a little exasperated. "It's just an ear."

"Yeah, just an ear...this time. We were lucky, George. It could have been worse. I mean...before...I could tell something had happened. To you. But I couldn't tell what. For a second, I thought it was–I thought you'd–you were–" He couldn't bring himself to say the last word, the one that had been haunting him for the past hour, since he'd nearly fallen off his broom with the sudden, inescapable knowledge that all was not well.

But it didn't matter that he couldn't say the word, because with a sharp intake of breath, George realized what he meant. He stared at his brother for a moment, then pulled him into a tight hug. They stayed like that for a time, George trembling as he understood the choking fear his brother had experienced, Fred rubbing his back in a fairly useless attempt at comfort. Only when both their breathing had steadied did they pull apart.

Fred shook his head. "How can we fight, when we know...that next time...we might not be so lucky?"

"Well, we _have _to keep fighting. You know that."

"But if you...I couldn't...I mean, _this_," he gestured toward George's missing ear. "I can handle. Losing anyone else, I can handle. But _you_--what would I _do_, if--? " Fred stared at his twin imploringly.

"I don't know," George whispered, horrified to have to truly confront the possibility for the first time in his life.

The two stared at each other, for there were no words or actions that could express what they were imagining. Finally, George shook his head decisively, breaking the spell. "It won't happen. It can't. I mean, come on...one and not the other? No way."

"Are you sure?" Fred implored.

George was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. "I have to be," he concluded.

"Promise?"

"Well–alright, yes. I promise. Never one without the other. If we do end up being taken out in a heroic battle, it'll have to be together. Yeah?"

Fred nodded, relieved. "Right. Promise." With that, he stood up, suddenly eager to break the serious mood and resume their usual bantering game. "After all, now that you've got this disgusting great bloody hole in your head, you'll need me around to attract all the girls. I suppose I'll let you have my cast-offs out of pity."

George rolled his eyes. "Oh please. You know ladies love a man with a battle wound."

"Battle wound?" Fred scoffed. "Last I checked, Your Holeyness, you fell off your broom after taking a hit from greasy old Snape, of all people! Some battle. Saintlike, my arse."

_...in silence they followed Mr. And Mrs. Weasley back into the Burrow, and into the living room, where Fred and George were laughing together._

It wasn't until the Final Battle that George would learn how useless their promise was.

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Thanks for reading. Um, I tried to make the ending really "hit" you in the style of bitterending's "Mirror Image". I can't tell if it worked or not. I'm new to any sort of creative writing, so any reviews are enormously appreciated. Concrit is especially encouraging. Thanks! 


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